


Open Your Heart, Open His Eyes

by risquetendencies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7682128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo has superpowers, but one power he sorely lacks is the power of deduction. Contrarily, Kenma doesn't have superpowers, but he might just need them to remedy this situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Your Heart, Open His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [newamsterdam (eugenides)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=newamsterdam+%28eugenides%29).



> Happy birthday, Asma! You are an amazing human being and I've enjoyed getting to know you and sharing in your own creative processes. I love your Chiaroscuro-verse and how imaginative it is with the magic and the character development. Thanks for letting me be a part of that through beta-ing! I send you all the well wishes in the world~.
> 
> I changed my mind a lot on what I was going to write for you, but in the end, I came back to KuroKen and threw in the faint backdrop of a superhero AU as a shoutout (since I know you like those sorts of things :P)! I sincerely hope you enjoy this tale that's full of fluff (and Kuroo being so, so oblivious). ♥
> 
> Last but not least, thanks to [@curiouslylazy](http://curiouslylazy.tumblr.com/) and [@kaiyouchan](http://kaiyouchan.tumblr.com/) for looking the fic over before it went up, I appreciate your feedback!

"You're kinda heavy, Kuroo."

Kuroo scowls and tries to straighten up where he's standing, wincing at the stab of white-hot pain that jolts through his leg. Once he's stable, Bokuto lets go of where he's been gripping him under each arm and ascends a few inches in the air.

"Is that really how you want to talk to the guy who shielded you today?" he says, gingerly lifting his leg to shake it, as if by doing so he'll unwork some of the protesting muscles.

"Yeah but then you bruised my wing when you rolled over onto me," Bokuto points out. His face is set in a pout, and one of his hands gestures toward the broad expanses of feathers that sprout from his back.

"Ask Akaashi to kiss your boo-boo better."

"He probably will. If I ask, that is," Bokuto chimes confidently, ignoring the snark in Kuroo's response. "Anyway, are you going to be fine from here if I leave now?"

"Yeah, I'll survive."

"Good night then!" Bokuto waves once at him and then he's soaring higher into the night sky until he disappears into the darkness of it.

Kuroo watches for a few moments past that point. Then he turns toward the house they landed next to and his hands fall to rest on his hips. Expression narrowing, his eyes dart between his sight level and the one lit window on the second story, then between the tree beside the window and the porch where the front door of the house is.

His ankle aches.

There's no easy way to do this, he realizes, sighing in irritation. If he was smart, he would've had Bokuto fly him up to the window. But now he doesn't have that convenient option. He's stuck.

Even worse, he's stuck and the only solution involves getting Kenma's attention. Unfortunately, his best friend is notorious for staying up late playing video games. As in playing them and blocking out the rest of the world. Including people in need of help, like him.

It's a little ironic, a superhero in need of saving.

Kuroo lets another sigh join the air. He doubts anything he comes up with will work, but he can't get bogged down by defeat until he tries.

Hobbling over to the garden outside the Kozumes’ home he finds a couple of small pebbles and takes them in hand. Next he strategically positions himself outside Kenma's window, aims his hand, and then launches one of the rocks upward.

It knocks into the glass with a resounding crash. Kuroo jumps and comes down hard on his sprained ankle, yelping half from pain and half from surprise.

Immediately he jerks his head around, paranoid that he'd made enough noise to be noticed. Or worse, thrown the rock hard enough to break the glass.

With a quick check, he ensures that it's in fact, still intact. This prompts a sigh of relief, and Kuroo drops the rest of the pebbles he's gathered. He's definitely not doing that again.

His attempt produces nothing in the end. Kenma is probably locked in the throes of a game and he's outside in the cold feeling pretty stupid. Also sweaty, the clammy sort of sweaty, because it's surprisingly hard to limp around with a bum ankle and a skin-tight costume covering the length of his body. At this point he probably looks more bedraggled than cool.

Finally, he decides that contrary to his morals as one of the city's protectors, he's going to commit a crime.

Slowly and carefully, he hops over toward the front porch of the house, climbing the couple steps at an even more glacial pace. Kuroo doesn't want to think about what it will be like on the way up to the second floor. There will be several times the stairs, and therefore several times the pain and suffering.

He finds the spare key hidden under the welcome mat and gratefully opens the door with it. Well, on the upside, Kenma's parents aren't home to catch him walking in with his hero garb on. That's why he’d normally climb the tree to his friend's room instead of walking in the front door.

Kenma's parents have always been incredibly hands off with their only son, to the point where neither of them come in to check on Kuroo and him when they're sleeping over like most mothers or fathers would. They know the boys will come get whatever they need themselves and don't question it. This is the complete opposite from his mother, who doesn't understand why anyone would ever need privacy.

Kuroo's not ready to tell her about the hero gig yet, so he saves his patrols for the nights when he can stay over at the Kozumes’. His high-school life has revolved around this -- homework is for nights at home whenever possible, the other nights are filled with hero duties. It all works out pretty well most of the time.

Wincing, he clears the first few steps, wondering if Kenma would hear him if he called out and help him get up the rest. Probably not. If he knows Kenma, he's probably got his noise-cancelling headphones on so that he can focus on what's in front of him.

With the last of his strength, Kuroo pulls himself up the remaining stairs, leaning heavily against the wall at the top and panting. There's a stitch in his side that warrants a moment of rest, and he wants nothing more than to dive face first into his futon and not move for the rest of the night.

Over the course of doing patrols, he's found that Bokuto's and his presence is enough to send most low-level criminals scattering away from the scene before a crime is committed. But there's always exceptions to the rules. Tonight they'd encountered that when they'd happened upon a larger group of guys trying to rob a jewelry store. Needless to say, his body is angry with him for the damage done to it. Twisting his ankle isn't too bad in the scheme of things, though. It will heal.

Kuroo eyes the door to Kenma's bedroom. It's partially open, which is different, but he's not going to question that.

Steeling himself, Kuroo walks the rest of the way.

As expected, he sees Kenma hunched over at his desk, headphones firmly on and scrolling through some webpage. His gaze seems unwavering. The lack of movement from his corner of the room tells Kuroo he hasn't noticed his arrival, just like he didn't notice the rock that catapulted against his bedroom window.

Kuroo isn't sure if that's reassuring in its normalcy, or concerning. On some of these nights, Kenma is home alone because Kuroo is out doing his hero thing and Kenma's parents are working. What if someone ever broke into the house? Kenma would be all but defenseless.

Grimacing, he pushes the thought away. If he lets it marinate too long, then it will stop him from doing what he needs to do in favor of sticking closer to home. They don't live in a bad neighborhood, and Kuroo is mostly sure that he doesn't have any enemies yet who would know to use his best friend against him. Kenma will be fine.

Sidling over toward him, Kuroo catches a glimpse of the article he's reading as he leans on the back of the chair. "10 Surefire Ways To Confess" and the introductory blurb flash before his eyes before Kenma notices the presence behind him and quickly changes to another tab on the browser. Something catches in Kuroo's chest, and he has to clear his throat before he attempts to speak.

"So, uh..." he begins smartly, "I guess you didn't hear me outside?"

A silence unfurls for a minute or so, and then Kenma shakes his head. He doesn't say anything, and Kuroo's curiosity spikes. It's probably better if he doesn't push the subject, if he lets Kenma come to him if he wants to. Hearts are delicate things.

He's just, well, shocked. To his knowledge, there's no one Kenma has a crush on. They've certainly never discussed any love interests. But maybe it's a new development.

Clenching his mouth shut, Kuroo decides to pursue the wiser course and backs away from the desk, lowering himself onto the guest futon instead. His mind is blank apart from the nagging desire to tear into the subject. Carefully, he arranges himself, snagging one of the extra pillows to put underneath his foot. It should be elevated more, iced too, but he doesn't have the energy to go about any of the best practices right now.

Once he's lying flat, he lets a sigh of relief trickle out. At least he doesn't have to move anymore tonight.

Maybe the sigh is what does it, because one second he hears the chair beside him creak, and in the next, Kenma sits beside him, pulling up his knees to his chest and looking contemplative. Thoughts flicker across his face, eyes almost darkening with them, and then he finally opens his mouth.

"How bad is it?"

"I think it's just sprained, but it hurts a ton," Kuroo answers honestly. "I got knocked to the ground when we were fighting these robbers, and fell on it funny."

"That was stupid of you," Kenma mutters.

It sinks in for him how tired he truly is, because he doesn't even try to defend his honor.

"Yeah."

There's another pause.

Nothing's coming easy, and it only enhances his worry. His mind keeps circling back to the article title. Confession advice - but for whom? The idea of Kenma being motivated, hyped up enough to put himself out there like that is alien. It makes him wonder how long Kenma has been stewing on the idea, building up his drive to do it. Also it makes Kuroo wonder how he could have missed that shift in someone he spends so much of his time with. He's supposed to know Kenma best, but evidently that's not true any longer.

"Before that I kinda fell on Bo too, but I only bruised him I guess. Lucky bastard. I have a feeling he'll keep reminding me about that though. I wonder what it'll take to shut him up."

Kenma's expression is hidden by now. He's gone and tucked his face down behind the rise of his knees, curling up into a human ball, yet Kuroo knows he's still listening. But he's quieter than usual. Less sharp with his contributions to their conversation.

Maybe if he talks about other things for long enough, Kenma will settle down enough to talk about what he's avoiding right now.

"On the plus side, we did get all of them rounded up for the cops. So I guess taking a fall was worth it in the end."

Kuroo pauses, combing his mind for new threads of conversation. All he can think of would involve feedback from Kenma, but maybe that isn't a bad thing. Including him in talking might grease the wheels a little. Letting him stew in silence can potentially have the opposite effect, after all. Whatever that was holding him back from addressing the article might get worse over time. If he's talking about other stuff, he's not going to be focusing on the fear.

"So, did you get any of your homework done while I was patrolling? Need help with anything?"

The question directed at him forces Kenma to raise his head. Kuroo thinks he sees a grimace flash across his face, and then he's responding.

Kenma's shoulders square up stiffly, and his back straightens from being hunched over. He looks hesitant, but not particularly afraid, surprisingly.

"It's okay," he opens, hands settling on his knees. "You saw what I was reading. Go ahead and ask about it already."

Kuroo's eyebrows furrow in suspicion - something is off, that's what his intuition tells him. If anything, he'd expected it to take longer for Kenma to open up. Much longer, and maybe under the duress of some gentle prodding on his part. Instead, he's getting right to the point and looks willing enough to respond to whatever Kuroo throws at him.

It's weird, and Kuroo isn't sure if it's weird in a good way yet.

"We don't have to talk about that," he says, figuratively extending the olive branch to see what Kenma will do. Jump at the chance to ignore a potentially embarrassing topic, or will he stick it out despite the escape route? Whatever the answer winds up being, it'll at least provide him with a little more information.

Kenma blinks at him, and then in the next breath, he's rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"Let's just get it over with," he mutters, annoyance ringing through in the tone.

If he wasn't busy analyzing everything, Kuroo thinks he might have laughed at his best friend's show of petulance.

He tends to be more delicate with his provocations when it's Kenma compared to other people. It all depends on Kenma's mood, and there are times when he knows his teasing will worsen a situation rather than take Kenma's mind off it. But when he does get the opportunity to take a jab, he takes it. Kenma's never once disappointed him with how stinging his return punches can be. Even when he sulks, it's pretty amusing.

He smiles fondly at the thought, at least until his mind returns to the topic at hand. Then he feels a little of the foreboding from before, when he'd seen what kind of article Kenma was perusing.

It's because he didn't see it coming, Kuroo assures himself. There's nothing wrong with Kenma branching out and developing an interest in someone in ways that he didn't seem inclined to be interested in anyone previously. It's surprising, but not a cause for panic by any means.

Why he still feels panicked, the reality of the situation settling heavily in his chest, Kuroo isn't sure. Maybe Kenma has the right idea. Maybe if he doesn't waste time and goes ahead with talking about it, it will cease to be so uncomfortable. And then, with a little luck, the feeling will dissolve and life can go on. Between Bokuto and Akaashi, and Kenma and his mystery person, he'll be a fifth wheel, but that's not a terrible fate.

It's not.

He swallows down the lump in his throat and then tries to rustle up some words. His mind is almost stubbornly blank, and it takes him a full minute to accomplish the feat.

"You were researching ways... to confess to someone," Kuroo states, the phrase coming off as more of a question near the end. He can't shake the awkwardness that's clouding him no matter how hard he tries to will it away. It's weird. It's definitely weird. Who does Kenma like anyway?

"Yes."

Kenma leaves it at that, which is infuriating in of itself. He doesn't offer up any more explanation, or any bridge for Kuroo to take to continue the conversation. Which means he has to regroup again on how to proceed. Really, Kuroo just wants to scowl at the lack of cooperation, but he's trying to be neutral here, so he can't let his irritation show. Or else he'll never solve the mystery in front of him.

"Was it helpful? The article, I mean."

"Who knows," Kenma mutters, igniting the spark of frustration Kuroo doesn't want flaring up. He carefully schools his expression, keeping it from broadcasting how he's truly feeling.

"What does that mean?" he asks calmly. Good, he's managing this, and slowly he can chip away at the truth of the matter until it's all clear.

"I haven't tried it out yet," his best friend replies, and then with a sharp look thrown Kuroo's way, adds, "It might not work."

"Well yeah, you won't know until you try. That's just how these things are. And it depends on if they like you too, or are willing to go out with you and try to have those feelings," Kuroo lists off, thinking about some of the confessions his classmates have received and their aftermaths. At the latter option, he cringes, opening his mouth to say, "But you shouldn't settle for someone who will just 'try' to like you, Kenma. If they don't like you already then don't bother."

Kenma's hands are absently tracing patterns on his knees, but he seems like he's listening. For a second in the meantime, Kuroo allows himself to worry about the person Kenma's infatuated with.

What if it is one of those situations? Where Kenma likes the person, but the person doesn't like him, or doesn't know him that well? How can he trust that a stranger will deliver a rejection in a way that won't scar Kenma forever? They need to be gentle. Straightforward with their answer, but not too harsh, because he imagines it will take all of Kenma's courage just to get through a confession without backing out. If it's a no, it'd better not be a blunt one. Contrarily, if it's a yes... Kuroo isn't sure what to think about that scenario.

It would help a lot if he knew the person, just to be sure he knows what type of individual Kenma is going to be trusting his heart to. But he doubts he can flat out ask their name and get an honest answer. Kenma is too secretive for that. If he guesses who it is though, that's a different story.

"Tell me about them. What are they like? Maybe I can think of something."

"They're really oblivious, so I doubt it," Kenma says, looking at him directly. "That's why I was reading it to begin with. To see if anything there could help."

Kuroo latches onto the clue. Oblivious, that's what they're like. He considers the people Kenma is usually in contact with; instinct leads him to believe that Kenma wouldn't go for someone he only knew from afar. And maybe he's wrong about that, but he thinks it has to be someone closer to home.

His mind immediately zones in on a likely candidate. The Hinata kid. Granted he's not overly familiar with him, not like Kenma is, but he supposes oblivious could be used to describe him nonetheless. At the very least, he's not the perceptive or intuitive type like himself, Akaashi, or even Yaku and Kai, if naming a few people from Kenma's circle.

Kuroo ponders the possibility some more, trying to think of the last time Kenma and Hinata had met up and if there had been signs there that Kenma was lovestruck. Not that he personally knows what a lovestruck Kenma would act like. He can surmise, he can guess, but that's yet another mystery to be uncovered. Still, he can't think of anything from the last visit that screams 'secret crush' to him.

Maybe it's not Hinata, in which case, he has to consider other options.

All too soon, someone else springs to mind, and Kuroo can't help the face he pulls when realization dawns on him. Nor can he control the surge of panic that accompanies it. Yet he's certain he's onto something, crazy as it seems. Who else is close enough to Kenma for them to attract his devotion?

In the next second, his panic is tempered by confusion. Kuroo asks himself the most important question, which is - why does Kenma want to confess if he knows his crush is already dating someone? That's way too much trouble, the kind of drama his best friend routinely avoids. Does he really feel that strongly about Bokuto to do it knowing he's infringing on Akaashi's territory by doing so?

There’s the sound of a throat clearing, and Kuroo looks up slowly.

Kenma is staring at him critically, like the stream of worries in Kuroo’s mind are completely transparent to him. And if indeed they are, he doesn’t like what he’s seeing there. It gives Kuroo some pause, so he doesn’t chime in immediately.

“You’re wondering who it is, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes.” There’s no reason not to admit it, though the straightforwardness of the inquiry surprises him.

“It’s probably not who you think it is,” Kenma states, only deepening Kuroo’s suspicions that his wild guess was on the right track. Kenma really ought to give him some credit, he’s not completely clueless.

They both speak up next at the same time, their responses garbled together in a mess of words, neither side comprehensible. Kuroo decides he’ll defer and let Kenma go first, so he absently gives a wave of his hand from where he’s lying down and waits.

“It’s… Lev.”

Kuroo bolts upright, features twisting into an expression of outraged confusion before he sets eyes on Kenma and wills himself to settle down. One fist clenched around the sheets, he shuffles back until he’s comfortably seated and grasps for the best way to react to that. Still, when all his mental processes are worked through and done, he can’t contain his disbelief.

“Lev. Really, _Lev_?” He lets his feelings reign free in the way he emphasizes the name the second time around.

Kenma’s face is impressively blank for someone who’s just made such a preposterous announcement. At first he doesn’t acknowledge the challenge and simply pulls the nearest blanket to him and wraps himself in it. Then, he nods once.

A heavy weight drops into Kuroo’s stomach at the motion, and he doesn’t know why. Maybe because again, it feels like he barely knows Kenma at all somehow with this new revelation. If he had ever sat down and thought about what he’d imagine Kenma’s “type” of person to be, Lev would be the antithesis of most of those traits. But he’s wrong about that too, apparently.

Even still, should it hurt so much to be wrong about something non-essential? Romantic attraction can be very random anyway; it isn’t something he realistically should work himself up about getting wrong. And it doesn’t matter – if Kenma likes Lev, there doesn’t need to be a logic behind it.

He should just support him and move on.

Kuroo composes himself and then ventures forward tentatively.

"All right then. So. Lev," Each word is punctuated, but he keeps his voice steady. "How are you planning to do it? Telling him how you feel, I mean. Writing a letter?"

"No, by saying it," Kenma answers matter-of-factly.

"In person is good," Kuroo encourages.

His stomach feels a little jumpy imagining the scenario. Kenma laying his heart on the line, Lev probably rushing in or cutting him off when he's trying to speak his piece or saying something clumsy and stupid in return. Kenma confessing to Lev is a strange notion. Any day before this, he would have thought Kenma would be happiest living on another continent from Lev.

Maybe-- He's using maybe a lot in his own mind, but this all feels uncertain to him, so Kuroo can't help it. But maybe, once he sees them as a couple, he'll come to understand. It's possible it's one of those relationships where the two of them drive each other just crazy enough to be madly in love. He himself is more partial to stories featuring pairs with a strong connection and trust, but life rarely matches up to the perfectitude of romantic novels.

"Can I practice it with you?"

Kuroo is fairly sure he's never heard that phrase come out of his best friend's mouth before. Certainly not about volleyball.

Kenma dislikes additional effort, and the effort he puts in already is sometimes more than he's willing to give. Kuroo can't count the number of times he's dragged Kenma out of bed to an early morning practice, even if admittedly Kenma has gotten less disagreeable ever since he met the Hinata kid and found the motivation to play harder. Kenma must be very serious about the confession, though he wonders why extra practice is necessary. It's Lev. Does Kenma really need to go to great lengths with someone like Lev? If it were up to him, he'd say no.

His stomach turns again in tandem with those thoughts. Yet, he's never been able to turn down an honest request for help.

"Sure you can," Kuroo manages to eke out despite his brain screaming that it's a terrible idea.

Kenma spares him another look, checking to see if he's being genuine or not. Whatever the final assessment is, he gets to his feet, blanket still swathed around him like a heavy cape, and switches off the bedroom lights, plunging them into darkness.

Or rather, himself. Kuroo doesn't question it, because he figures it's easier on Kenma if he can confess to the person he's really thinking of if he isn't distracted by Kuroo's face being right in front of him. But still, given his powers, Kenma's face is as clear as day to him. His vision never dims with nighttime or an absence of light like a regular human's does.

Kenma seats himself back down on the futon in front of him, close, and settles in for the long haul. Through the darkness, Kuroo watches as his lips purse, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. It takes a while before he gets around to saying anything. The only sound in the room is Kuroo's own anxious pulse. He's not truly even breathing as he waits.

He wants to understand, he wants to be supportive, so why won't his body follow suit with his mind in getting on that same page?

"You..." Kenma begins haltingly, "Y-You're..." he adds, and then ducks his head. The blankets get pulled tighter around his midsection, and for a second he's sitting there, wide-eyed and pensive as though he didn't realize how difficult it was going to be to speak his feelings aloud.

As though he regrets choosing to voice them at all, which makes Kuroo worry. If he can't do it now, how is he going to manage it in front of Lev?

A confession letter almost seems simpler. And kinder for saving them both the trouble of a face-to-face confrontation.

"It's just me, Kenma," he says in what he hopes passes for a soothing tone. "Take your time and all that jazz." Kuroo stops just short of reaching out to touch his knee in support. That might do more harm than good currently.

Kenma doesn't raise his head again when he continues, but at least he's forging on.

"You're the simplest person for me to be around," he says in his slow, measured way. "I'm not someone most people want to bother with, but I think... I think you actually like hanging out with me. Though sometimes I wonder if it's just you being too nice, because you do that."

Listening nearby, Kuroo's brows knit together disapprovingly. He's also a little confused at the exact words his friend chose, but more so, the content of them. Whatever apprehension that's been swirling around in his gut dissipates, exchanging itself with righteous annoyance.

"Don't put yourself down like that," he interjects sharply, cutting through the weighted silence of Kenma considering his next lines. "Not ever. Definitely not in a confession to someone. They should be so lucky that you've chosen them, not the other way around."

His words of wisdom earn him a thunderstruck look that rapidly vanishes and a weary sigh. Kenma and the blankets descend as he switches to lay himself down on the futon. He arranges himself on his side and promptly announces, "I can't do this."

The words sound more irritated than defeated, oddly enough.

"Like now, or ever? Are you still going to talk to Lev?"

Kuroo figures it's a fair question since they've traveled this far down the brainstorming rabbit hole.

As he's waiting, he hears a muttered phrase that he can't make out from the human lump beneath the blankets. That and the severity of the situation nudge him forward from his settled position, sliding himself with respect to his ankle across the floor toward Kenma.

Once he aligns himself side by side with him, their sprawled bodies close enough to brush against each other, Kuroo clamors for clarification.

"What did you say a second ago? I think you should try to tell Lev at some point. Maybe it can wait a while, but if it's bothering you this much it would probably feel better to get the truth out in the open."

Kenma rolls over just enough to pierce him through with a scowl.

"I said you're clueless," he says contemptuously.

"How am I clueless?" Kuroo blurts out in response, suddenly feeling defensive.

As far as he's concerned, this whole talk he's been nothing but charitable and benevolent. Maybe his advice wasn't what Kenma was looking for, or he thinks it's bad - it wouldn't be the first time for him to ignore his input - but why that means he's clueless is lost on him.

"Did you really think I was in love with Lev?"

Kuroo arches a brow, a little thrown off, but he's prepared to justify himself.

"Well yeah, you told me that's who, and I believed you. You don't joke around, usually."

"Lev," Kenma repeats, spitting the name out like it's something disgusting. Like Kuroo should have known better all along.

And maybe so, but he stands firm on his decision to accept it initially. Even if it went against everything he knows logically, like how Kenma ducks out of every opportunity to practice with the first year and never lets himself get sucked into one of his long, rambling conversations. It hadn't made sense when Kenma proclaimed Lev was his crush, but he had been willing to look past the inconsistencies because more than anything, he trusted that Kenma was a bluntly honest person. He didn't expect him to lie.

Kuroo isn't sure whether him being right about Lev being the last sort of person Kenma would go for makes him feel relieved or not. Either way, he was wrong about something.

"Who do you like then?" he asks in resignation. The now familiar pit in the depths of his stomach resurfaces, prompted along by his circular thoughts. Does it matter who it is? Does he really want to find out the truth?

Kenma squints at him in disbelief. "Kuro-" he gusts out.

"What? I'm just asking!"

Kenma narrows his eyes and glares at him.

Kuroo drinks it in until, without warning, realization hits him with all the subtlety of a bullet train. It crushes the breath out of his lungs and what feels like all the blood in his body surges to his face, reddening it beyond measure. He tenses where he's reclining beside Kenma, and if he had any control over his limbs, he feels like he'd want to scoot back about fifty feet or so.

Instead he gapes, and no words make it through the cavernous opening. He's not sure he can verbalize anything at the moment.

Stupidly, he jabs a finger at his own chest and keeps it there.

Rather than nodding, or shaking his head for a no, Kenma rolls back over to face away from him. In the split second before he does, Kuroo thinks he spots a light flush tinting his ear pink. That's answer enough for him, fleeting as the sight is.

It's _him_. He's the oblivious love interest.

Kenma likes him.

Kenma wants to confess to him. Well, maybe, if none of this back and forth counts as a confession already. And if he still wants to after dragging him down the path to enlightenment.

Kuroo, on the other hand, has never believed this was possible. Pushed the prospect to the darkest recesses of his brain a long time ago. Since then, he's only enjoyed fleeting daydreams about warm embraces and shared lives, ones that faded by force once he was through thinking about them. He's never let it be more than a dream. But apparently it's a dream they've both been sharing.

He scoots himself closer to his best friend, the leaden weight in his chest dispersing. He feels so much lighter, alive, with the hum of determination propelling him forward. 

"Kenma."

Kuroo's arm wraps around him over the blankets, and slowly, slowly, he tucks his head behind Kenma's, nuzzling into his hair and hoping that's not overly bold. At first Kenma is stiff and shellshocked in Kuroo's arms, but then there's a loosening up of his joints. Kenma sinks into their embrace and breathes out shakily.

"I like you too," Kuroo states. "So much."

Simple words, but he can't think of any that would get his point across better. There are endless ones he could use to describe Kenma to him, to qualify his feelings, but simple and clear-cut feels appropriate right now.

Kuroo waits, listening to the silent signs of Kenma deliberating and feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath his hand. There's only a small dreg of nervousness that remains, and it's that he's been too blind for too long and that professing his love this late has ruined it for Kenma.

Insidiously, the thought sinks claws into his brain, and the arm that's slung over him goes limp. Kuroo then reminds himself that Kenma isn't pulling away from him. He's just thinking it through. As is his right - just because he finally got a clue doesn't mean Kenma needs to accept his confession in return.

Kenma's arm slides up and out from his hold. He turns over, huffing slightly as the blankets tangle around his legs. Kuroo edges back to give him room to fix it. His heart is beating painfully fast, but he doesn't dare do or say anything to cut through the tension.

Kuroo is glad it's dark in the room for Kenma so he can't see what a mess he looks like right now.

Still, once he's settled back on his opposite side, Kenma stares through the shadows as if studying his face. Probably the only part he can make out is the glow of his eyes. Kuroo wonders if it looks creepy, the way they stand out like that. Normally he wouldn't care, might even boast about how his powers made him resemble a cat, but not now. Now he just worries about what Kenma sees when he looks at him.

There has to be something good there if he feels that way toward him, right?

One of Kenma's hands extends toward him, landing on the side of his face. Kuroo tenses but stays still as the fingers of that hand map him out, sliding along the cut of his jaw. He shivers as a lone one accidentally brushes against his lower lip. The finger retreats swiftly, but just the fleeting touch of it is enough to amplify the longing that's stewing inside him. Eventually, Kenma's hand finds its way upward, brushing back his bangs.

Once again, he's thankful for the dark. His face feels hot. He wonders if Kenma notices that too.

"You like me."

It might be a question, it might be rhetorical for all he knows. No matter what the truth is, he feels compelled to answer. Kuroo leans into the caress of Kenma's hand. It feels so grounding, so soft on his face, and he wants to keep it there forever. He places one of his over it, thumbing the bony ridges of Kenma's knuckles until he finds a spot to settle, keeping both of their hands pressed firmly against his calid skin.

Kuroo sucks in a breath before he speaks, taking it in gradually to soothe his rampant heart rate. Across from him, Kenma seems so calm. He'd be jealous if he didn't realize that his best friend's pulse is thrumming just as fast.

"Yeah, I like you. All of those things I said earlier about not settling for someone who doesn't feel for you, or how they'd be lucky to be with you... I said them because I know how amazing you are. That's how I feel."

He watches as Kenma's expression pinches, and his cheeks gain a darker hue, one that makes him want to kiss it away.

The thought stops him short. Kuroo flushes harder himself.

"Oh," is all he gets in response. He barely hears it with how lowly it's said.

Kenma's hand, or maybe it's his feels a little clammier than before now. But he's at peace, the peace that comes with knowing that this is all so achingly _real_ and it won't fade away. There's just one thing left on his mind.

He nudges their foreheads together in the darkness and prays his voice doesn't break.

"...Can I kiss you?"

Incredibly, the tiniest of nods resounds against him, and his heart leaps into his throat.

Kuroo shifts his head, tilting it until their lips touch, featherlight, and it's almost more than he can bear. Kenma's eyes are half-lidded, peering up at him as he begins to respond, pressing in firmer, insistently, tightening his hold on Kuroo's jaw. Kuroo feels like he could implode at any given moment, but he can't bring himself to shut his eyes either while they kiss.

Murmuring happily against Kenma's lips, he drapes an arm back around them both.

They're no experts at this, but they'll find their way.


End file.
